Seneca: Whiskey and Water
by Tafar
Summary: Set in a future after the conclusion of "The Seneca Missions" main series, Admiral Hart reminisces on past loves and losses alone in his favorite bar. A sympathetic cadet piques his interest. M/M, smut, bad-decision making, angst, HC


The Seneca Missions: Whiskey and Water  
One-Shot  
Rating: Hard M (For scenes of homosexual fornication)

Summary: Set years after a yet-unwritten tragedy in "The Seneca Missions", Joseph Hart reminisces on past loves and losses. A lonely night spent in a bar with too much alcohol leaves him open to a much needed rejuvenation of spirit in the form of a sympathetic face. Smut and bad decision-making ensue.

Author's Note: This story contains spoilers for my Seneca Missions readers. You do not need to have read The Seneca Missions main series first to understand this story, but it is encouraged!

~****~

Joseph Hart remembered this bar from happier times.

This bar, called the "Terran Niche" by the owner (and 'affectionately' referred to as "The End of the Line" by recruits) had been the site of many celebrations. Whenever the former crew of the USS Seneca had been in the mood for raising any kind of hell, they'd been welcomed here with open arms. After the jubilant wedding of Zoe Adele and Aaron Hill, the raucous reception was held here. There had been far too much alcohol, laughter enough to make a throat sore, camaraderie deep enough to fill an ocean and a warmth that could have sustained any dying man in his hour of need. There had been hangovers the next day, but no regrets. This bar had hosted the much quieter, much smaller reception accompanying Joseph and Selen's low-key bonding ceremony a short time afterwards. There hadn't been anywhere near as much shouting or booze at the second party, but Joseph could still clearly remember the feeling of pride he felt, sitting on his stool with a hand on his new husband's knee.

The Admiral would have given anything to feel even a ghost of that familiar touch again as he looked around the old place. There was none of the residual glow from the glory days hovering around this place. Sure, The Niche was the same as she'd ever been; a creature of wood floors and antiqued counters. There had been a charm to the 21st century feel of the place back in the day…it had felt cozy and safe. Now the Niche just looked tired and old…it looked just like Joseph Hart felt as he shambled over to a stool by the bar. He remembered with some pain that it was the very stool he'd occupied the night he and Len had gotten 'married'. A twinge of familiar agony shot through him.

It had been six years since the wedding. It had been three since losing Selen Hart. That left three whole years of mourning and lost opportunities sitting miserably behind Joseph's eyes. Despite being only 43, he felt 100.

Everyone had managed to go on but him.

Zoe and Aaron Hill had stayed in the service long after Joseph had given up the Captaincy in favor of a life away from the stars. They had eventually settled on one of the Space colonies, Zoe as a doctor and Aaron as an engineer. They had been happy, healthy and supposedly expecting a second child according to the message Joseph had received from them a month ago. Honestly, Joseph couldn't have wished prosperity and joy on two better people.

Oliver had transferred to another, lower profile ship when his Captain had stepped down. Nothing much had changed about the German, not even the boundless pride he still felt for the family he rarely saw. Brigitta and Celia still sent Joseph care packages from time to time, always making sure to demonstrate a level of care and concern with each one. Perhaps they were the ones who had worried the most about Captain Hart's mental state when things had gone so wrong all those years ago and they endeavored to keep him in good spirits whenever they could spare some. If Joseph understood correctly, bright little Celia was already garnering some academic attention and was looking at the possibility of Starfleet scholarships by the time college rolled around. Once again…couldn't have happened to better people.

Leila? Who knew where she was anymore. She was such an active explorer. Her last message to Joseph had come from Vulcan and she had expressed clear desires to visit Bajor once she was done there. Whether or not she'd actually gotten there was another story entirely.

Speaking of Bajorans, Joseph knew for a fact that Bai-Lin and his 'child', Algernon 13, were both at Starfleet Headquarters. Bai-Lin was following in his father's footsteps as a linguistics teacher at the Academy so he could be near to his ward while the gifted android continued to explore his career officially. Gerri had turned out to be such a bright kid once everything was said and done…eloquent, graceful, talented and outgoing. He grew in intellectual leaps and bounds, becoming more sophisticated almost every day. Hart would still go and visit them from time to time when the duties of the office weighed too heavily upon him and they could still bring him some nostalgic happiness.

Of T'Jenn, Joseph knew nothing. He hadn't bothered to contact his former communications officer or her father after losing Selen in the line of duty. He hadn't been able to bear it and he knew the cold, compassionless response he was bound to get hadn't spurred him on.

So many lives had gone on, showing so much promise for the galaxy and yet his still remained in an eerie stasis. For three long years, Joseph had lived in a little pocket world far removed from all of his fellows. He had managed one last year on the Seneca before the cold reaches of space had become too much for him. A promotion had come down the line for him and he snapped it up almost without question. The Seneca seemed a sick, sullen place without the smiling Vulcan lurking in her labs, a PADD in hand. The loneliness had taken too large a toll on Joseph and he'd had to leave the ship he had once called home for good. It wasn't home anymore. His dearest friend, poker buddy and husband was gone.

Joseph shook himself from reverie, looking up at the bartender and asking for a beer. He didn't care what kind…any sort would do. The barkeep looked upon him with something resembling pity before walking to fill the order.

Pity.

Pity for the once illustrious Joseph Hart.

The former captain supposed he deserved it. Here he was, sitting alone on a stool in the middle of a run-down bar on what would have been his anniversary. His black hair had a shock of gray starting just at one temple and he could feel the lines cutting deep around his eyes. His black eyes no longer flashed. His form was still toned, but he walked with a defeated stoop that fooled the eye. Tonight he was buried down in a heavy coat, feeling the bite of the winter plainly against his skin. The tan of his flesh had faded and the stern set of his jaw had slackened off to where he just looked beaten. Certainly, he looked like a creature worthy of pity.

Quietly, he accepted his beer and looked into its amber depths, remembering the brown of Selen Hart's eyes. It was like rubbing brine into his heart's still-gaping wound. Joseph fumbled in his jacket pocket for a rumpled half of a photograph. It was one of the only images of Lenny he still had floating around. The Vulcan had held such a fascination for old-fashioned things that he hadn't relented to many holo-images of himself to be taken…only photographs. This was the last one of those that Joseph had and he made sure to always keep it close.

He sat, lost in memory. Joseph didn't even notice that someone had taken the seat next to him until a voice, deep, melodic and rumbling spoke at his side, "Pity to let a good beer go to waste."

Joseph started and slammed the photograph down on the counter, blinking in shock and turning to look at his intruder. The man was a little bit taller and built like an Olympic runner…toned and thin, but not skinny. There was the hint of shadow lingering around his jawline, but it was faint, giving him a vaguely rugged appearance. His eyes, sitting neatly beneath expressive eyebrows, were the color of warm honey with a little spot of green lingering in the left one. His hair was a dark mocha brown, combed over neatly to one side with a few wayward strands escaping into his face.

His face was compassionate, currently pulled into an expression of friendly concern, "You alright?" The twang was slightly southern, not a drawl in the least, but only if you listened just so.

"...Who are you?" Joseph asked guardedly, his tact and grace of former years lost.

A lopsided smile greeted him, "Cadet Hunter McClellan at your service, sir."

"You're a bit young for this bar. Don't the recruits prefer the livelier venues closer to campus?" Joseph asked solemnly, taking a drink of his beer.

"Typically most of them do, but I'm not most recruits. The music at the other bars tends to hurt my ears and the company tends to hurt my head. I prefer places like this," Hunter assured, asking for a Budweiser Classic.

Joseph shook his head and Hunter flashed him another disarming smile, "You never did tell me if you were alright."

"Well, you're a bright young cadet. You tell me if I'm alright or not," the older admiral groused, not realizing just how much he sounded like his former First Officer.

Hunter's face was pure gentle easiness, "I'd rather not judge, if it's all the same to you. I'd rather just hear it from the horse's mouth."

There was a level of respect in the man's tone that Joseph hadn't heard in years and it gave him pause. He honestly considered him now, "…Don't worry yourself with it, kid. I'm just an old dinosaur lost in his memories of better days."

"With all due respect, sir, I'm no kid. I'm thirty!" Hunter confided with yet another infectious smile.

Joseph snorted, "What are you doing as a cadet at age thirty?"

The dark-haired charmer shrugged, honesty apparent in his every action, "North Carolina was starting to seem pretty small, sir. It felt like it was time to jump down off of my shelf."

"Please…don't call me sir. If you're going to call me anything, at least make it Joseph," the former captain waved off the formalities, still fingering Selen's wrinkled old picture.

"Okay, Joseph it is then," Hunter said as he took another drink of his beer, eyes half closed as he enjoyed the taste, "Hey, this place wouldn't happen to have a juke box would it?"

"I doubt it had anything you'd want to hear in it, Hunter," the admiral warned, wondering why this ball of southern sunshine had chosen to intrude on his attempt to reminisce.

"Try me," Hunter retorted, his smile widening as Joseph inclined his head in the direction of the machine off in the corner.

Quietly, Joseph found himself studying the lanky man who had barged his way in on the admiral's funerary march. He wore a simple black t-shirt and blue-jeans with working boots, no jacket to speak of. The man made every motion look so easy and effortless as he walked, even leaning over the music selection machine and flipping through its digital log of music was poetry. Joseph couldn't help but watch as Hunter's face lit up like a beacon and he hit a few buttons, the strains of old music filling up the bar's background. The tune hit Joseph like a psychological gut-punch and he felt tears in his eyes before he could stop them. They were still in his eyes when Hunter ambled back to the counter.

"…Joseph? You alright?"

"I…I had a friend who loved this song. The band…they're called The Seekers…?" Joseph asked through the pain.

"Yeah…really big in the 1960s…" Hunter said softly, his beer momentarily forgotten, "I take it that your friend…he's not around anymore?"

"I lost him in the line of duty three years ago."

"Oh...."

Hunter shifted a bit in his seat and this time it was his turn to consider the admiral seated next to him. He had no idea exactly who the man was yet, but whoever he was, he was in pain. The North Carolinian's eyes drifted down to the photograph under Joseph's fingers and his brow furrowed deeply, thoughtfully. The gears in the younger man's mind turned and it occurred to him that Joseph had the look of a man deep in mourning. He wasn't just some Federation schmuck at some bar trying to get drunk…he was a man bent on drowning some pretty heavy sorrows. The whole thing cried injustice to Hunter and he found himself gently tugging on Joseph's arm.

"Hey…Joe, what do you say we finish our beers and go for a walk? I don't think this is the best place for you tonight," Hunter offered, his brows lifting up in genuine worry.

Joseph looked sharply at the newcomer and he seemed to pause. It was his special night with his special memory of Selen and normally he'd bite the head off of anyone intruding…but there was something genuine about Hunter McClellan that won him over. The innocent care in those honey-soft eyes broke through his icy walls and he honestly weighed the man's words. Hell, if Selen knew that he was sitting on his duff in an old-man's bar, the Vulcan would have likely urged him to do exactly the same thing. Besides, Hunter seemed completely harmless. Perhaps it would be good to let a cheerful cadet distract him on the most painful night of the year. What the hell.

In agreement, Joseph knocked back his beer and it drew the broadest smile yet from Hunter.

~***~

The night air was chilled as the two sat down on the rocks by the bay, staring out at the looming shadow of the Golden Gate Bridge. A flask of whiskey sat between them (a little surprise that Hunter had been packing in his pocket) and Joseph had to admit feeling a great comfort. They hadn't really spoken yet, but they had taken turns throwing rocks out into the water, listening to them splash, then sink. They silently counted the skips and took some time to let a comfortable sort of trust develop between them. Hunter demanded nothing and Joseph appreciated that.

It was the admiral who broke the silence first, "So…what made you pick that old 20th century band back on the juke box?"

Hunter shrugged, weighing another stone, "I like old fashioned music. The music had so much feeling back then because people didn't enjoy the freedom to speak their minds as openly. Sometimes making music was the only way to get it all out. People were pretty awful in the 20th century and it seemed like music was the only time they were really honest and really compassionate."

Joseph nodded faintly and Hunter turned to look at him, "It seemed to hit you pretty heavily. Your friend must have been pretty special."

"Hunter, you're a good man, so I'm going to come clean with you. He wasn't just my friend…he was my husband," the admiral admitted, just staring out over the dim reflections dancing on the water.

"Oh…damn…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you…" A flash of true dismay passed over Hunter's kind features and it almost made Joseph smile.

"You didn't. It was just coincidence," Joseph admitted with a soul-weary sigh, "His full name after we got married was Selen Hart. Before that, he was Selen of Vulcan. On the ship we called him Lenny and he was the only Vulcan I ever knew who smiled. They were wonderful smiles, too."

Hunter gave his companion a truly responsive, kindhearted look full of an almost personal hurt, "I guess that makes you Admiral Joseph Hart, then. I heard about Lieutenant Commander Selen Hart in my first year. He disappeared…supposedly."

"No…not disappeared, Hunter. He…he just got lost somewhere I couldn't reach him anymore. By the way, I told you that it was just Joseph. None of that admiral nonsense tonight," Joseph chided, finding himself drawn into that remarkably tender face.

"Shit…that's…that's horrible, Joe. I can't imagine having that kind of closeness with someone just to lose it…"

"I couldn't imagine it either, Hunter."

"I'm sorry. We…don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to," Hunter's voice had dropped to the low rumble from earlier.

The admiral reached for the flask, knocking back a swig of the burning liquid and relishing it. He handed the flask over to his companion, watching as Hunter mimicked the action, "It is painful to recall. Thank you for your forethought, Hunter. It's more than this stubborn old man has earned."

The cadet sighed and lay back against the stones, feeling a little bit of cool spray dampen his face. Joseph fell to studying him again. He couldn't help the twinge of fear he felt beginning in his belly at the idea of such a soul winding up out in the disquieting perils of space all alone. He always felt that quiet pain when he looked at these green, fresh-faced cadets going out with dreams of conquering the universe. He only wished he could warn them, but for some reason, with Hunter it was even more worrisome. After all, Hunter was a little bit on the older side…what if he wasn't up for the unrelenting rigors of the infinite sky? What if he was too set in his ways to adapt like the younger men?

"Hunter…"

"Hm?" It was that same, rich almost-purr.

"What in the world could space possibly hold for you?" Joseph voiced his question openly.

For a long moment, Hunter just stared up at the stars twinkling against the vibrant ebony of the heavens. It seemed that the answer may not even come until at last he said, "…I don't know. I feel like I'm one of the few cadets who doesn't have some higher calling to aspire to. Hell, I just want SOMETHING to aspire to. Maybe I'm hoping I'll find some purpose out there…something bigger than myself."

Hunter took another long draw on the flask and Joseph couldn't help but smile, "That has to be the most humbling answer I've heard in a long time and I've heard a lot of grandiose balderdash in my day. What's your specialty?"

"Xenobiology. To be honest, I'm a botanist," Hunter laughed a bit at how ridiculous it sounded.

"I would have taken you for a beginning Security Chief with that muscle tone," Joseph said with honest surprise.

"I used to do a bit of boxing to keep myself in shape," Hunter chuckled again and Joseph found that the sonorous tone of it was intensely pleasing.

Hunter let the admiral slip the flask from his fingers, not watching as the older man took another drink, "You're going to get drunk if you keep going like that."

"One beer and half a flask of whiskey? You're underestimating me, Hunter."

"Well, I'm a little further along than you. I did some drinking before I met you at the bar," Hunter rumbled.

"Then YOU'RE going to get drunk, not me," Joseph corrected, carefully watching the cadet's languid form as he lounged against the rocks.

"Wouldn't be too bad would it, Joe? Sometimes getting drunk with someone else can be a cathartic thing and YOU sound like a man sorely in need of catharsis," Hunter shot back, smiling softly against the dark.

"If you're really looking to get drunk, then perhaps we should retire back to my quarters. I have a better supply than what's left in this flask and I find that I'd rather not spend the rest of this night wallowing. There is something bracing about having company again," the dark-haired admiral replied as he stood up, brushing himself off and catching a face full of salt-laden bay breeze. He inhaled deeply and held a hand down to Hunter.

There was a definite strength in the hand that gripped his and he pulled the man up with the very real power that was still in his own limbs. He watched the younger cadet smile at him disarmingly once more and it was like a punch to his gut. The two walked then, making their way up and along the bay back towards Starfleet Headquarters where the earth-bound admiral kept his quarters. They were mostly silent, only breaking the night's natural serenity with the occasional query or comment as they went. There was something companionable between them in their mildly intoxicated state, something that kept Joseph's demons at bay and buried under a delightful fog. He had managed to forget about Selen's picture in his pocket, focusing instead on the sound of Hunter's breathing and the way the road sounded beneath their feet.

By the time they finally reached Joseph's quarters, the chill had gotten to them both and the admiral's first stop was a well-stocked liquor cabinet. He didn't bother with glasses, just bringing the bottle of Saurian Brandy over to a small table and setting it down. He motioned his guest over and pulled up another chair, making room for Hunter.

The room was rather like a nice den area appointed with the table where the brandy now rested and the cushioned chairs, all of which sat in front of a broad window. There was a thick rug on the floor to ward off the early morning cold and the walls were all decorated with framed photographs of Joseph's fondest memories. Selen's photos were there as well, but they were turned around to face the wall where Joseph couldn't see them. There were a few trophies displayed as well, but the memories…the photographs…they came first. Hunter passed by them as he made his way to his seat, studying the happy faces in each frame, acquainting himself with the golden years of the USS Seneca's crew before eventually finding his chair.

Joseph was already seated by that time, fighting with the brandy bottle, "Computer. Some Petula Clark, please."

The small music player installed in the den processed the request before the strains of the American 1960's filtered into the room. Hunter smiled at the sound and had to admit that it greatly relaxed him. Of course, he suspected that the admiral knew he would approve of the music and had chosen it for him. He was appreciative.

Carefully, the younger man reached out to help his companion with the brandy bottle, eventually managing to open it even in his buzzed state. As it was, he took the first drink and he greatly approved of the taste, "I had forgotten how fond I was of this."

Joseph took the bottle as it was passed to him, taking a drink as well, "It is nice. Hunter? Thank you for having some pity on an old fool."

"It wasn't pity. It was compassion. You looked pretty down in the mouth there, Joseph and I wasn't about to just leave you alone. Leaving people to wallow is turning your back on a problem and only cowards do that," the buzzed cadet told him, a few more strands of hair escaping his neat style, feathering across his forehead.

Joseph reached across to brush the hair back, not really realizing what he was doing, "Well then let's be thankful that there's still decency in the Federation."

"There are a lot of decent folks in the Federation, sir. I just think you've been too badly hurt to see it," Hunter said, his voice soft as those fingers brushed his brow.

"Maybe."

The two fell back into comfortable silence for a time, taking turns drinking from the bottle until a considerable haze had fallen over both of them. It was like someone had wrapped a warm blanket around both of their brains, leaving them muddled, sleepy and somewhat confused. They lost track of the time as the night stretched on and they kept at their drinking, occasionally breaking the silence to chat about something small and insignificant. After a time, Hunter stood from his chair and leaned against the window with one hand, looking to study the stars again. Joseph looked at his upper torso so neatly outlined by the city lights outside and he felt something warm stirring in the pit of his stomach.

"Are the stars as beautiful once you're out in them, Joe?" Hunter asked, his rich tenor slightly slurred from the effect of too much alcohol.

Unable to help himself, Joseph Hart stood up and moved next to Hunter, trying to catch the object of his fascination, "There's a lot of mystery and beauty out there in the galaxy."

"Why leave it behind?" Hunter asked, turning to face his host.

Joseph looked for the moon, "I guess…it was convenient to blame the unknown…for all my loneliness and loss."

An orbit came to life between the two men, pulling them inch by inch closer to a collision as Hunter tried to form coherent thought, "Alone for three years…"

"I can't help but feel fear every time some new life goes out there and I wonder what will happen to them. Hunter, all night I've been wondering what will happen to you when it's finally your turn to brave Space travel. You're very bright and understanding…my heart physically hurts to think that you might end up worse than Selen did in the end…" Joseph's fog was almost as severe as Hunter's and he was far past the point of emotional balance or discretion.

"I'm not…I'm not scared of having so many unknowns out there. I AM scared of having nothing…right here…" Hunter intoned quietly, his honey eyes sharply dilated from the influence of the brandy.

Under an exotic obscurity of heady inebriation, Joseph lost his delicate control and gave in to his need to protect that warm, humanitarian spirit that had sought him out in the bar for no other reason than to see to his well-being. No stranger in an age had gone so far out of their way for him. Lost to his condition, Joseph reached out and put an arm around Hunter's waist, pulling the muscular body up against his own and pressing a kiss against the younger man's full lower lip. The heat of contact rushed over both of them, only adding to the slow-kindling fire both of them already felt under their skin from the alcohol. There were no complaints. There were no protests. There was only a sort of urgent serenity as Hunter tilted his head and fell into the kiss.

Joseph Hart worshipped his unwitting saviour with that kiss, gently pushing into the other's mouth with his tongue and caressing the inside of that hot cavern. His calloused hands wandered up underneath Hunter's shirt, pressing against the lean muscles he found there and rubbing in small circles, finding the other man completely pliant. He heard a gentle whimper from the cadet and Hunter rolled his head back, giving the admiral access to the graceful curve of his throat. Taking the gift that was offered, Joseph broke the kiss and grazed his teeth over the exposed skin, his hands wandering around to Hunter's belly. The former captain felt an electric tingle in his groin as his fingers traced the top the lights dusting of hair that stretched from navel to nethers.

Hardly a bystander, Hunter brought his arms up and weakly laced them into Joseph's hair, encouraging the stimulation, reveling in the little nips that shot straight to the bulge growing in his underwear. He ran his nails over the admiral's nape, making helpless sounds of dazed pleasure every so often when the older man discovered a new sensitive spot on him. Neither man seemed to notice the world around them as they broke apart, breathing heavily. With a gentle firmness, Joseph took Hunter's bicep in his grip and pulled him away from the window, leading him back to the bedroom and a bed that had been cold for nearly two years. Lost in alcohol-fueled rapture and imbued with a deep empathy for this man, Hunter followed.

Beyond the door to the bedchamber, their motions heated once more as they fell into one another again, eager to touch and to be touched.

Lost in the fog, Hunter lost track of motions, of entire trains of thought. His scope of knowledge narrowed down into simply knowing that he was being touched by the hot hands of another and that he liked it. He knew when he was eased back onto the bed though he couldn't exactly recall how it happened. He was willing and relaxed as the shirt slid off of him and demanding lips nursed at his collarbone, slipping lower. His skin felt hot and he squirmed under talented hands as Joseph reached past his waistband to cup his buttocks. The man above him was needy and demanding, but never simply taking. He gave in return and it was all Hunter could do to remain at least somewhat conscious and coherent under Joseph's careful ministrations.

Hunter rose up a bit off of the bed, draping his arms over Joseph's neck and loosely crossing his ankles at the small of the older man's back, pulling them flush and murmuring against the shell of his ear, "Please…just let it go for tonight...."

The hot breath coupled with the intensity of the words shot a bolt of unremitting need straight to Joseph's groin and he groaned, leaning down and leaving a lingering kiss at the junction of neck and shoulder. His fingers feverishly fumbled with the front of Hunter's jeans while the younger botanist found it much less of a task to divest the older man of his trousers. In the next delicious moment, skin touched skin, pants and undergarments stripped away, leaving the two totally nude atop the sheets.

A thin sheen of sweat had cropped up on Hunter's taut flesh, causing him to seem to glow very faintly in the low, warm light of the bedroom. Joseph drew back to look at him, just staring at those softly parted lips and the honeyed eyes half-closed with passion. The other man looked away from him just slightly and Joseph reached out to capture his chin, turning that face back and pressing in for another kiss born of pure, unadulterated desire. The kiss gave him time to fumble about in the nightstand until he located the tube he'd been looking for, deftly opening it with one hand and retrieving a small amount of lubrication on the ends of his fingers.

The dark-haired botanist beneath him gasped and moaned, surrendering entirely as he felt a finger press into him. He bit his lower lip and arched his hips, hissing softly while Joseph left small kisses on his brow. Hunter squirmed as a second finger worked into him, his hair thoroughly mussed against the pillow by now and his hands digging into Joseph's biceps. The older man nipped his shoulder and slipped a third finger in, curling all three and searching for that delicate, special spot deep inside that he remembered so well. It was the surprised, needy gasp that told him he'd found it. He brushed it again, hearing his soon-to-be lover cry out softly and try to push back against the once-painful intrusion.

The next part had the potential to be extremely uncomfortable if it was Hunter's first time like this and some small part of Joseph's brandy-addled brain recalled that despite being drunk out of his mind.

Slowly withdrawing his fingers, he nudged Hunter's thighs, settling between them when the man spread his legs obligingly. Working to get a decent amount of lube in his palm, Joseph leaned up and spoke softly into the cadet's ear, "This part hurts a bit. I promise to go slow."

He wasn't sure how much Hunter understood in his equally plastered state, but he hoped something comforting filtered through the alcohol. He pressed another kiss, this one more fierce than the last. Breathless and impatient, he spread the lube on his penis and took an inflexible grip on Hunter's hips, pushing them gently down onto the bed to keep motion to a minimum at first. Still plying the younger man's lips with a kiss, he lined himself up and began to slip in, the head of his penis making it in before the pain truly registered with his lover.

Hunter let out a small, keening sound, trying to slip back off until Joseph whispered in his ear again, "It won't hurt the whole time."

It seemed to calm the cadet and Hunter relented, forcing some of the tension out of his muscles and accepting the intrusion a little bit. It eased the penetration and allowed Joseph to slip in the rest of the way until his full length was inside the younger botanist. Hunter was already panting, pressing his palms into the former captain's shoulders and trembling in a blend of pain and over stimulated pleasure. His hips pressed upward in need and Joseph took it as his cue to move, withdrawing almost completely before pushing back in very slowly. The pain was still there, but it eased with each new pass of that hard length into his body. The rhythmic motion of Joseph's thrusts and the comfort of his warm weight eased the stress of it and slowly melted it into pleasure.

Muscles swiftly growing languid, Hunter gave himself over completely to the sensations, his head falling back as he began to move in time with the other man. Joseph was forceful with their lovemaking, fueled by too much alcohol, but there was something exceedingly protective about him still. There was a mindful care taken by Joseph as his thrusts sped up and he pulled the cadet tight to him, biting gently at the soft flesh behind Hunter's ear. The spirits moved through their veins, quickened by their heightened pulse, bringing climax swiftly, overcoming both of them and leaving them panting on the bed. Hunter was somewhat aware of his lover carefully slipping out of him before his exhaustion caught up with him and he closed his eyes. Even as sleep stole over his senses, he felt strong arms wrap him up, keeping him safe against the night.

~***~

The morning brought with it a spectacular hangover for Admiral Joseph Hart and the feeling of a cold place that was certainly not his bed. Early sunlight stung him through the cracks between his eyelids and he tried to roll over, feeling all of his muscles protest. Where was he and why did he feel like he'd been smashed by a runaway hover car? For some reason, instinct prodded at him and he reached over, feeling for another body in his bed, only to remember that wherever he was it was NOT his bed…and he was certainly alone. His brain tried to make sense of things despite the throbbing pain in his skull, little things filtering in past the headache.

He remembered the color of honey first.

That color was a key for everything else in his head, letting memories of the previous night's events saunter in at their own pace. It had been his anniversary with Selen's ghostly memories and he'd gone to their bar…he'd met a Cadet…McIntyre, was it? No, McClellan. The man's name had been Hunter McClellan and he'd had such a kind nature. Next came the memories of too much alcohol…of the bay and the walk and the conversations. Those thoughts were pleasant enough, but Joseph could feel something very much like dread pressing at his gut. What had happened next? It got fuzzier.

Lying still as a stone, Joseph laid an arm over his eyes and his face scrunched up in concentration as remnants of mutual heat tugged at the edges of his brain. His body remembered the soft touch of another even if his brain was a little slow on the uptake, recollection of the drunken coupling stored up in the tense ache of his stiff muscles. With the evidence of the physical so strong, it wasn't too long until his brain caught up and everything hit him in a thinly veiled rush of horror. Dear God, he'd fucked that cadet…he'd gotten drunk out of his mind and had sex with a recruit. The sudden realization jerked him out of his half-sleep and he sat up sharply, looking around the room he was in and ignoring the pain and the dizziness for now.

He was in his den, laid out on the couch with a sheet. He was alone. God, Hunter must have been humiliated when he woke up this morning. He must have left as soon as he'd gotten his shit together, gone back to the Academy to sleep his embarrassment off before he had to report to classes. What a grand mess Joseph had made of everything. The admiral lamented quietly to himself, putting his head into his hands to hide his eyes from the too-bright sunshine flooding his livingroom.

"Joseph?"

The admiral jerked up and turned around sharply towards his small kitchen, blinking when he saw Hunter standing there wearing only his jeans, two mugs in his hand. At first, the cadet looked a little surprised to see him up, but then that warm smile was back and he walked over, setting one of the mugs down on the coffee table. So Hunter hadn't left after all? Joseph had to admit that some part of him was pleased, but more of him was confused.

"Here, I recommend you drink that. I'd imagine you've got a shit hangover and that should clear it up. Old herbal remedy from my grandmom," Hunter said, seeming relatively unconcerned today.

Joseph held up a hand, "I…why are you still here? After last night – "

"You expected me to wake up, be mortally embarrassed and run out on you, right?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," Joseph mumbled, pulling his legs up to his chest to make room for Hunter to sit on the end of the couch with him.

Hunter smiled at him all the way up to those honey-brown eyes, "I may have been completely plastered, but I was coherent enough to say 'yes' wasn't I?"

"I was out of line last night. I abused my position as admiral and if you felt compelled to sleep with me because of that…," Joseph tried to be professional, tried to apologize.

He felt a warm, strong hand settle over one of his, "Joseph, give me a little bit more credit for God's sake. I'm a thirty year old man and I'm perfectly capable of saying 'no' when I realize I'm being taken advantage of."

Joseph looked into that guileless face, seeing the truth written there for himself before calming down. He let out a shuddering breath and seemed to sag into the couch, letting Hunter hand him the mug he'd been offered earlier. He took a sip of it and the brew was bitter, his expression sour as he sampled it. Hunter laughed at the face he made and Joseph found that listening to the man laugh was almost as pleasant as listening to him talk in the wee hours of morning. His mirth had a husky, mellow sort of quality that was very easy on the ears. It didn't jar Joseph's headache in the least and it helped bring a little more clarity to the morning.

"I appreciate that you stayed," Joseph said in a low voice.

The cadet gave him a very reassuring look before standing and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, starting to walk away, "I'll be back. I just have to make the bed."

"Is…that why I'm on the couch?"

"Yeah. The sheets were messed up after what we did last night, so I peeled them off and got some fresh. I moved you to the couch so you wouldn't wake up in a filthy bed."

For a moment, Joseph looked down at the mug in his hands before he ventured, "…Leave it for a moment. I want to talk to you, Hunter." The admiral held out one hand, beckoning his lover back towards the couch. He was pleased that the other obeyed and he was able to wrap him in a loose embrace. He was even more pleased when the embrace was accepted.

"Hunter…look, what you've done for me so far…well there's just no way I can repay the consideration you've shown for me. I think Starfleet will be able to celebrate some very successful years with someone as warm as you in the service…but you aren't obligated to anything else with me," Joseph ventured, trying to make sure that Hunter knew that the encounter last night didn't bind him to anything more lasting.

"No, I'm not obligated," the younger man replied almost cryptically.

Joseph looked perplexed, "Hunter?"

"Just saying, admiral," the cadet replied with a grin.

At first, Joseph Hart didn't quite know what to make of the statement and he felt more confused than when he'd found himself on the couch with a hangover. He looked very carefully at the dark-haired man in his arms, trying to gauge exactly where the younger mind was headed. Hunter patiently stayed in his embrace, not even trying to escape as things slowly began to sink in for the befuddled admiral. His weight was warm and comforting, like a heat pack against the admiral's still-sore muscles. The level of comfort made it hard for him to think properly so all that came of his deep consideration was an even bigger jumbled up mess. After a few minutes, Joseph just gave up with a frustrated sigh, resting a hand on top of Hunter's head.

There was that deep, purring laugh again, "Let me make it easier for you, Joseph. Do you want it to be a one night stand?"

The admiral blinked and thought about that. He weighed the two options that were left to him in this strange circumstance: keeping the oddly infectious cadet around or being left alone again at night. Last night when he had held Hunter in his arms, the nightmares hadn't come around. He hadn't been chased by dreams of the husband that he'd lost three long years ago. Every other night he spent alone in that bed that seemed too large these days, the memories always found him and they hurt so fiercely that he thought his heart might stop from the pain. It was hard to believe that one drunken tryst had been the first honest night's sleep he'd had since losing Selen Hart. There was a little guilt there, but in the end, the need for comfort greatly outweighed his fear of replacing his beloved bondmate.

The aging admiral shook his head, "No."

"Well then, there you have it. Pardon the poor Botanist humor here, but you'll find I have a habit of growing on you," the cadet fought to hold down a smirk over his own lousy joke.

Joseph couldn't help a smile and it brought a little of the luster back to his keen black eyes. He craned his neck to check the chronometer that sat neatly on the coffee table next to them, trying to see the time. It was still relatively early and Hunter wouldn't have to drag himself into uniform and report to classes for another hour yet. It gave the admiral an idea.

"Hunter, are you any good at poker?"


End file.
